


paper cup coffee

by rikke



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M, Mermaid Oikawa, Pro Volleyball Player Iwaizumi, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 04:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13942881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikke/pseuds/rikke
Summary: Iwaizumi rescues a mermaidonce, and now it won't stop beaching itself so he has to do it again and again and again.





	paper cup coffee

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this whole thing in 3 days what the fuck  
> just goes to show what's possible when you're procrastinating *finger guns*

 

When his alarm went off at 5:45 a.m., Iwaizumi groaned and rolled out of bed. He squinted in the shadowy dark of the early morning, making his way around half-packed cardboard boxes until he found his electric kettle on the kitchen island and switched it on. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself, brush his teeth, and change into workout clothes just in time for the kettle to go off. At this point in his packing, he’d forgone fresh ground coffee and resorted to shitty, instant packs. He ripped one open, emptying it into one of the few cups he still had out, and, deeming it too early, left the empty plastic pouch on the kitchen island where four others had accumulated that week already.

The coffee was, predictably, terrible, but it got him coordinated enough to tie up his shoelaces and cross the street to start his usual, morning run along the river bank.

Iwaizumi was not a morning person by any definition of the word. He forced himself up at 6:00 a.m. every day to go jogging because that was what soon-to-be professional athletes did—they woke up at ass-o’clock and suffered in the frigid, early spring morning. But even then, he was usually on autopilot until about an hour in and he’d made it all the way around Hirose River to Tohoku University.

So Iwaizumi wasn’t awake enough to register it as unusual—just annoying—when he heard a high-pitched, keening cry further down the river. It grew louder in pitch as Iwaizumi jogged closer, and when he looked down, he found an entire mermaid caught up in the low-hanging branches of a barren tree growing out of the side of the embankment.

“Ugh, shut up,” Iwaizumi shouted.

The keening cry paused for just a second, the mermaid looking up at Iwaizumi, before it started up louder and even more obnoxiously than before, huge tears flooding down its ugly face.

“I’m going to die,” the mermaid sobbed. “I’m going to die.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying, you’re not going to—”

“I’m going to _die_ ,” the mermaid wailed.

“Shut _up_ ,” Iwaizumi shouted.

The mermaid cried even more noisily, so Iwaizumi did the only thing he could think to do this early in the morning.

“If I get you down, will you shut up?” Iwaizumi shouted.

The crying paused and the mermaid appeared to think about it before nodding. Simple problem, simple solution.

Things like this happened all too often in the early spring right after the winter snow started melting and caused every river in the region to flood. Four years ago, back in Iwaizumi’s first year, he’d come across a puppy drowning in the river, although that time, it was the puppy’s owner—a little girl—who had been sobbing for someone to help her dog until Iwaizumi waded out and dragged it back in. Last year, there had been a stray cat yowling almost as loudly as this annoying mermaid, and Iwaizumi had been forced to dive in and rescue it. This was the first time he’d come across some unfortunate creature being washed out of the river, but at least he didn’t have to jump into the freezing water to rescue it.

Iwaizumi clambered down the muddy bank of the river until he made his way to the tree. It was just above the water line, and he squelched, shoes digging into the mud as he climbed up the trunk. The bark was slick and slippery, but Iwaizumi had climbed dozens of trees in his childhood, so it didn’t take long for him to scale it, though the lower branches rocked precariously the further up he got.

The mermaid was actually a merman, Iwaizumi realized, when he got near. Even in the dim light of breaking dawn, he could make out skin so pale it almost looked blue, and an iridescent tail that glimmered every time the merman moved. He was also covered in mud and angry red scratches where he’d clearly been trying to twist himself free of the tree.

The merman sniffled as Iwaizumi drew near. “I’m dying,” he said.

“You’re _annoying_ is what you are,” Iwaizumi said as he began breaking off the nearest branches to free the merman.

“Ow!” the merman complained when Iwaizumi snapped a branch off his tail, displacing a scale.

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi said and snapped more branches off. It took only a few minutes before he’d broken enough that he thought he could shove the merman the rest of the way out of the tree. If the merman hadn’t been panic-wailing the whole time, it probably could have gotten itself out.

“Stop pushing!” the merman complained. “Stop—stop, I’m going to fall!”

“That’s the point, you shitty mermaid!” Iwaizumi punctuated the statement with a kick so that the merman went tail first, rolling out of the tree and plopping into the water with a loud splash.

He drenched Iwaizumi’s sweatpants. The frigid water woke Iwaizumi up entirely, and he stared down at the muddy, rushing waters of the river, but the merman didn’t resurface.

“Did I really just see a mermaid?” he asked out loud.

No answer came from the river.

Iwaizumi climbed back down and squelched his way home to change and start his jog all over again.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi was a fresh graduate from Tohoku University where he’d spent the last four years in an apartment situated right across the street to the Hirose River—so close that he could see the river bank from his second-story window. The location had definitely helped his training in the last few years because except for his rest day, he always woke early, jogged along the riverbank until he got to his school where he’d spent another hour at the gym before he hit the showers and went to class. After four years, his hard work secured him a position on the Osaka Blazers Sakai professional volleyball team.

Six months ago, when he’d received the invitation to the Osaka Blazers, he’d made the plans to go down to Osaka during winter break where he’d joined a throng of soon-to-be graduates for the early recruitment period to take written exams, physical exams, and then three rounds of interviews. At the end of it all, he was offered a position as a rank-one firefighter trainee for the Osaka Municipal Fire Department. It was a good job that would keep him in top physical form and pay the rent while he played for the Osaka Blazers, because Iwaizumi’s ultimate goal in all this was to get recruited for the national team.

The point was, Iwaizumi had his life on track—he and his girlfriend of two years had agreed to an amicable breakup because their lives were headed in different directions, and he even had an apartment locked down in Osaka. Everything was lined up for his move in two weeks time. So he wasn’t sure where he went wrong exactly, when the very next day, he went for his usual morning jog and saw that same idiot merman beached up on the muddy side of the embankment nearby the tree though not in it this time.

Iwaizumi didn’t even notice the mermaid at first, just focused on his usual route to school with a plan to hit the gym, shower, grab a breakfast nearby and some fresh, non-instant coffee, when he heard a soft trill coming from the side of the river. He ignored it and continued running only for the trill to turn into a loud, ear-piercing screech.

“Ow! What the fuck!” Iwaizumi jumped, startled out of his jog and into full awareness.

When he peered over the jogging path, he saw the same idiot merman from the day before beached in the mud, pale green tail waving lazily too far up from the riverbank.

The merman looked thrilled to see him.

“You again,” he said.

“ _You_ again,” the merman said, but he sounded smug as he let out another pleased trill.

“It’s too early for this,” Iwaizumi said and continued on his run only for the merman to let out another loud screech.

“Wait!” the merman called, desperate, when Iwaizumi halted in his steps to glare down at him. “Help me,” the merman said and reached his arms out for him.

“You can get back down yourself,” Iwaizumi said.

“I can’t,” the merman said and turned huge, puppy eyes up at Iwaizumi. “I’m stuck. Help me.” He flapped his tail pathetically.

Iwaizumi groaned, but as soon as he started turning away again, the merman let out a trill that grew threateningly in volume. If he didn’t help the stupid merman,  he clearly wasn’t going to shut up.

Iwaizumi sighed and turned back. He half slipped and slid his way down the slope to the merman who let out a happy trill and held his arms out as he got close.

He’d apparently been beached up on the riverbank long enough for his hair to dry. Whereas it had been caked with mud the day before, now it was fluffy and curled at the edges in a way that was incongruently cute to the mermaid’s horrible personality.

He let out a little coo as Iwaizumi heaved him up in his arms.

“You’re fucking heavy,” Iwaizumi said.

“Aww, but you’re strong enough to—”

Iwaizumi dumped him in the river, cutting off whatever the merman was about to say.

“Stay there,” Iwaizumi said to the muddy waters and continued his jog.

He didn’t think much more about the incident, but Iwaizumi typically didn’t think much about anything that occurred before 9 a.m. at the earliest. By the time he’d showered and gone to get breakfast and coffee, he’d forgotten completely about the mermaid in the river.

Except that it kept happening.

On the third day, the merman trilled as soon as Iwaizumi neared the river. It had beached itself on the concrete portion of the embankment just across the street from Iwaizumi’s apartment so Iwaizumi saw it almost as soon as he came out of the door and walked across the street.

The merman seemed to be waiting for Iwaizumi because he chirped as soon as he saw him and held his arms out.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Iwaizumi demanded. He began sliding his way down the concrete embankment, giving up his jog for lost until he dumped the fish back into the water.

“No?” the merman sang. “The river keeps flooding. It’s not my fault,” he said in a way that sounded entirely disingenuine. He all but jumped into Iwaizumi’s arms when he got close enough, and latched on, wrapping cool, damp arms around Iwaizumi’s neck which was one of the most unpleasant things Iwaizumi had ever felt.

“You stink of fish,” Iwaizumi told him.

“ _Rude_ ,” the merman said and then ducked his head. “What’s your name?” he asked, peering up at Iwaizumi through ridiculously long eyelashes.

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if the merman’s skin was heating up in his arms, but he felt warmer. “Iwaizumi Hajime,” he answered.

“Iwa—Iwai—Iwazoo—”

“Iwaizumi,” Iwaizumi said.

“Human names are _hard_ ,” the merman said. “Iwa-chan,” he said.

Iwaizumi dropped him into the river, earning him a loud squawk. “Do _not_ call me that,” he said.

“Bye bye, Iwa-chan!” the merman called, poking his head above the water and waving. “Have a good day!”

With a week and a half until the big move, Iwaizumi had plenty to do. There were all the things he still had to pack and all the things he had to get rid of. He also had paperwork he still had to fill out for both his new volleyball team and his new job, and additional studying he had to do before he began his training period. Then there were practical things that he had to take care of—a physical he had to get and a dentist appointment. On top of that, Iwaizumi wanted to spend as many waking hours as possible practicing because the Osaka Blazers would be a whole new playing field full of professionals now, and if he wanted a chance at being in the starting line-up, he’d have to work harder than ever.

The only relief in all of this was that the majority of his friends and former teammates were in the usual shukatsu job-hunting season full of exams and interviews for every type of company out there, so Iwaizumi wasn’t obligated to see them all before he left.

He spent most of the morning between the gym and the volleyball court, working on his serves since no one was around to help him practice anything else. Then he ran errands, notifying his bank of his imminent move before he headed back to his parents’ house to drop off some of his things for temporary storage and have dinner with them. He got drinks after with a group of university friends after, making promises to come back and visit. All in all, a normal day in which nothing else unusual happened. Still, the mermaid had appeared three times now—enough to convince Iwaizumi that it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination, and he found himself wondering if he’d see it again.

 

* * *

 

On the fourth day, Iwaizumi dumped two packs of instant coffee into his cup, and was therefore awake enough when he found the merman waiting for him in the same place as the day before, trilling and waving as soon as he spotted Iwaizumi.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Iwaizumi said as he made his way down to the merman. “Why the fuck do you keep beaching yourself? Next time I see you out here, I’m calling the labs.”

“No you won’t,” the merman said, smug. “Iwa-chan is too nice. And anyway, no one would ever believe you.”

“I’ll call the reporters then,” Iwaizumi said, calling his bluff. “Some tabloid will be curious enough to come look.”

The merman pouted. “You’re so mean to me,” he said. “Ungrateful.”

“Who’s ungrateful?” Iwaizumi snapped, grabbing the merman in a headlock and grinding his fist down on his hair. “You’re the one who keeps making me throw you back in the river.”

“Stop! Iwa-chan, you brute, you’re messing up my hair!” the merman whined.

“No one’s looking at you anyway,” Iwaizumi said. “Or do you want me to call the reporters? Stay in the river, you stupid mermaid.”

“But I needed to see Iwa-chan,” the merman said, pouting. “Stay for awhile. Where are you always going?”

His eyes flickered back up to Iwaizumi’s face, and Iwaizumi realized, for the first time that this merman was gorgeous. The first time, he’d been covered in mud and crying and one of the ugliest things Iwaizumi had ever seen in his life, but the last few times, he’d been clean and he had big, brown eyes and a cute, upturned nose and full lips and flawless skin—completely Iwaizumi’s type from the waist up, actually—and that got Iwaizumi’s blood pumping enough to remind him of all the stories surrounding mermaids and how they lured fishermen to their deaths.

“None of your business,” Iwaizumi said, picking up the merman. The merman’s arms automatically wound around Iwaizumi’s neck. It felt almost like habit now—the stupid merman would show up on the embankment so it was Iwaizumi’s duty to toss him back into the wild.

“But Iwa-chan, you saved me, and I have—”

“Let go,” Iwaizumi said, trying to pry him loose to toss into the river. “God, you’re so stupid. Just stay in there.”

The merman latched on tighter. “ _Wait_ ,” he protested, yelping as he almost fell out of Iwaizumi’s arms and loosened up to adjust his grip.

Iwaizumi took the opportunity to throw him toward the river.

“I said wait, Iwa-chan!” the merman shouted, and grabbed at Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt on his way in, dragging him off-balance.

With a splash, they both went toppling in.

It was absolutely freezing, which was the only thing Iwaizumi registered as he resurfaced. He kicked, dragging himself back out of the river, the stale taste of muddy water in his mouth. It was even colder when he got out, and he glared at the merman who had resurfaced to watch him.

“ _Stay_ this time, or I swear to god I’m calling the reporters if I see you out here one more time,” Iwaizumi said.

The merman trilled at him, a little quiet and hesitant.

“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi said. His clothes were drenched and he spent approximately ten seconds trying to wring out some of the water from his sweatshirt sleeves before his knuckles froze solid and he headed back into his apartment, squelching with every footstep.

 

* * *

 

The rest of Iwaizumi’s day progressed as normal—he got his physical and went to the dentist, but he started getting chills halfway through the afternoon, and by night time, he had a full blown fever.

According to his mother, because Iwaizumi had a healthy constitution and rarely got sick, when he finally caught something once every few years, he was a complete baby about it. All day the next day, he dragged himself around the apartment, making pathetic packs of instant miso soup which made his mother alternately laugh and scold him, until she said she’d come visit and brought with her a huge, three-tiered bento.

“How on earth did you catch cold?” she said, bustling around his tiny kitchen.

Iwaizumi grunted.

“You don’t want to be sick right before the big move,” she said. “Do you want to come home for a few days? Look at how much you still have to pack,” she said. “How long has it been since you last dusted in here? You can’t leave things a mess for the next tenant.”

“It’s fine, mom,” Iwaizumi groaned but shuffled to the table when she finished microwaving the food. “They’ll clean it before someone new moves in anyway.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime, I didn’t raise you to be a heathen,” she said. “You need to clean this place up.” She collected the empty foils of the instant coffee that had accumulated on his kitchen island and dumped them into the trash. “Honestly.”

“I’m _sick_ , mom,” Hajime said.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you’re less messy when you’re healthy,” she said. “I raised you.” She shook her head. “Make sure you put all of this in the refrigerator when you’re done eating so it doesn’t go bad. And clean out your refrigerator before you move. How old is this mayonnaise?”

“I’ll clean it later,” Iwaizumi said.

She fussed a bit more but finally left after making him promise to go to the doctor if it got any worse and telling him to drink more water and sleep.

Iwaizumi took a Tylenol and hit the bed as soon as she left, ignoring all of his mom’s scolding and leaving the dishes in the sink for when he felt better.

Iwaizumi was completely useless when he was sick so between reheating his mom’s leftovers and taking ibuprofen, he passed three days without thinking about anything other than sleeping his way to recovery. He felt too disgusting by day three not to get up and shower, but as he came back out, towel drying his hair, he heard the sharp tack-tack of rocks being thrown at his window.

The rock-throwing was accompanied by a soft but familiar trill and Iwaizumi rushed to the window so fast it made his head spin.

He threw his window open and looked out toward the river bank only to see a wet, bedraggled merman staring up at him from two stories down right under his window. The merman perked up. “Iwa-chan!”

“What the fuck,” Iwaizumi whispered to himself as he rushed down in house slippers, praising every god that the entire first floor of the apartment building was just the office and mailboxes, and hoping that the stupid merman hadn’t been throwing rocks at every random window.

When he got outside, he saw a wet trail beneath the streetlights that led straight from the river bed and up to Iwaizumi’s window as though the merman knew where he lived. Come to think of it, he probably did since the last few times, he’d been waiting on the riverbank right where Iwaizumi always started his morning jogs.

Iwaizumi staggered, picking up the merman through sheer willpower because all his limbs felt weak. He could feel goosebumps rising all up and down his skin from the chill.

The merman began trilling as soon as he saw Iwaizumi, touching his face, and frowning. “I was so worried, Iwa-chan, I thought you _died_.”

“Why is that where your mind goes every time?” Iwaizumi said. “I was just sick because _you_ dragged me into river.” He sighed and took a few steps toward the river, only to freeze when he saw a pair of headlights coming down the road. He took shuffling steps back in the other direction, holding the merman in his arms and ducking behind the entranceway. He’d have to get the merman across the street and into the river fast to avoid detection, but while Iwaizumi could have done it any other day, even holding the merman up felt like a little too much right now.

“You live in the river, you can deal with a bathtub,” Iwaizumi decided finally because he couldn’t handle dragging the merman all the way back out to the river today. Instead, he staggered into the elevator with the merman, telling his manly pride that taking the elevator up one story was justified when he was holding 60, maybe 70-some kilograms of fish and he was sick. After a quick check to make sure the corridor was empty, he heaved the merman into his apartment and went straight to the bathroom.

Although he lived in a studio apartment, it had come with its own furo bath, which Iwaizumi had never been so grateful for. The merman let out a little yelp when Iwaizumi dumped him in, but chirped happily as soon as he turned on the tap.

“It’s _warm_ ,” the merman gushed, holding his hands out, fingers slim and white beneath the flow of water. He flapped his tail, sending a small splash of water onto Iwaizumi knee. “I like this!”

“Stop that,” Iwaizumi said. He turned to close his apartment door, and groaned when he saw the wet, muddy trail through his apartment that the dripping merman had left.

The mud would be harder to clean up once it dried, and Iwaizumi had just under a week in this apartment now, so he had no choice but to start scrubbing. He was sweating, dizzy, and ready to hit the bed by the time he was done and went to check on the merman. The tub had filled almost completely by then, and the hot water had brought a pink flush to the merman’s skin.

He chirped when Iwaizumi came in. “Iwa-chan!” he said, splashing. “Look!”

Iwaizumi winced as the water ran over. He grabbed a spare towel to stick next to the tub.

“Are you some kind of idiot?” Iwaizumi said. The merman was both bigger and smaller than Iwaizumi expected even though he’d carried him multiple times now. His fins looked like they should be too wide to fit, but the merman had folded his tail neatly inside the tub, and looked almost demure sitting there with his hands in his lap. He’d also apparently discovered the vanilla cream-scented bath gel that Iwaizumi’s ex-girlfriend had left there after they broke up a few months ago, and the whole bathroom smelled sweet.

The merman cooed at the bubbles between his fingers.

“Are bubbles even good for you?” Iwaizumi asked, snatching the bottle from him and frowning. The ingredients said they were organic and parabens-free, because his ex had been obsessed with natural products.

“Bubbles!” the merman said, touching one with his finger so that it popped.

“Glad you’re having fun,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m going to go to sleep.”

“But Iwa-chan,” the merman said. “I still have to—”

“Talk to me in the morning. I’m going to _sleep_ ,” Iwaizumi said and shut the bathroom door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi woke to warm fingers brushing against his jaw and groaned. “Five more minutes,” he muttered.

He heard a quiet trill right by his ear and when he squinted his eyes open, he saw the face of the merman, hair completely dry and bouncing around his face in a way that looked so cute it pissed Iwaizumi off. The merman looked delighted that he was awake, at which point, Iwaizumi realized the stupid fish had dragged his whole body out of the bathtub, leaving a wet, vanilla-scented trail through the apartment. Iwaizumi groaned.

“Why?” he said.

“Why what, Iwa-chan?” the merman said and then cooed at Iwaizumi, latching onto his neck. “Good morning!” He gave Iwaizumi a kiss on the forehead and beamed at him as though all of this was normal.

From up close, Iwaizumi could see a flap of gills by the merman’s neck, but he seemed to be inhaling and exhaling just fine through his nose as well. Now that most of his upper body was dry and after a night spent in the heat of the apartment, his skin felt like human skin, soft, if a little cooler to the touch than normal.

“It’s too early for this,” Iwaizumi said, wondering if the merman would go away if he closed his eyes and pretended he wasn’t there.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to wake up,” the merman said. “Iwa-chan is so rude to me!”

“You’re the rude one—why are you here? Go home,” Iwaizumi said. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and yawned, ignoring the merman in favor of finding his electric kettle to turn it on. It took longer than usual since his mother had moved all his things around, but he finally unearthed it from behind a box full of empty tupperware.

He sat down at the table, stifling a yawn.

Although his entire lower body was made up of one long fish tail, and his upper body was slim in build with a delicate bone structure, the merman was strong enough that he had no problem wriggling his way around the apartment. He dragged himself up to one of the two chairs that Iwaizumi had at his tiny dining table, and sat, looking pleased with himself.

He opened his mouth.

“Don’t talk,” Iwaizumi said. “No talking before coffee.”

The merman looked puzzled as Iwaizumi searched around for his cups, but he could only find the one he’d been using the last few days. In the end, he gave up and used one of the paper cups he had lying around from some old take-out meal. He dumped the instant coffee packets into the cups and filled them with hot water before pushing the paper cup to the merman and taking the mug for himself.

“What is this?” the merman asked, looking intrigued.

“Coffee,” Iwaizumi answered and took a long sip from his mug, wincing through the too-hot burn on the roof of his mouth and the sour taste of instant coffee. “God, this is shit,” he muttered.

The merman took a tentative sip and immediately made a face and pushed the cup back toward Iwaizumi. “Ew, what is this? This is worse than mud.”

Iwaizumi grinned at that. “Instant coffee. It’s the worst, but it gets the job done,” he said, starting to wake up a little more. “I already packed my coffee maker, so unfortunately, I’m stuck with this.” He held up the little box of instant packets and shook it. “Until I move to my new apartment.”

The merman pulled his cup back and took another tentative sip. He grimaced. “Nope, just as bad the second time.” He glanced at Iwaizumi. “Can I talk now?”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “You’re already talking, aren’t you?”

The merman perked up. “My name is Oikawa Tooru,” he said. He spoke with a soft, lilting accent as though he was someone who had immigrated at a young age and spoke near-perfect Japanese.

“Big river?” Iwaizumi asked, raising an eyebrow. “Creative name,” he said.

The merman shook his head. “No, like in to extend—to exert—” Oikawa said. “The other character.”

“You can read?” Iwaizumi asked, realizing that Oikawa meant the usual character for the surname, Oikawa, and not the more literal translation, “big river,” which he’d assumed given it was a merman telling him this.

The merman nodded. “I can understand and read some. I lived in the river and watched people for a long time,” Oikawa said carefully. “But I’m not as good at pro-pro-pronunci—”

“Pronunciation,” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa nodded eagerly. “No one has ever practiced with me before. I could only listen and watch.”

Iwaizumi wondered how long Oikawa had been lurking in that river, watching people and learning the language to the point where he could even read it, even if his tongue stumbled over words.

“Iwa-chan is my savior,” Oikawa continued, beaming at him. “So I was worried Iwa-chan died and I couldn’t repay you.”

“I didn’t save you,” Iwaizumi said, yawning again. He felt better today—at least his head felt less foggy even though his limbs still felt weak. The coffee helped.

“From the tree,” Oikawa said and a small shudder passed through his frame. His tail made a loud smack against the wooden floor.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes as he took another sip. “What were all those other times when you showed up on the embankment?” he said.

Oikawa blushed. “I wanted to see Iwa-chan,” he said. “Because I had to tell you about the wish,” he added quickly. “But it was hard because you never talked to me long enough. You always threw me back right away.”

“What are you talking about?” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa blinked up at Iwaizumi, still pouting. “If you save one of us, you get a wish,” he said as though everyone ought to know. “It’s the rules.”

“Rules of what?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Of—of payback?” Oikawa said as though searching for the correct translation of whatever he wanted to say. He let out a series of frustrated trills and chirps. “I owe you,” he said finally. “One wish.”

“If you can grant wishes, why didn’t you just wish yourself out of that tree?” Iwaizumi asked. Having finished his coffee, he headed for the bathroom.

The bathroom was, as expected, a complete disaster. It smelled of vanilla, and water was everywhere from when the merman had dragged himself out of the tub. Oikawa appeared to have tried to clean it up, because every towel Iwaizumi still had in the bathroom was soaked through.

Iwaizumi ignored the mess for another time, stepping over a puddle of water, and began brushing his teeth. He left the door open so Oikawa could continue talking.

“It doesn’t work that way,” Oikawa said. “And it’s not really _me_ granting the wish—it’s the rules of payback,” he said. He let out another series of clicks and chirps in his weird fish-language as though frustrated and trying to find the right words to describe it. “The—the universe, the spirits of nature—there’s no good translation in Japanese. Just your wish will be granted. Because you helped me.”

Iwaizumi spit and rinsed. “If you say so,” he said, grimacing as he wiped his feet on a wet towel before leaving the bathroom again.

“So what’s your wish?” the merman asked. He propped his chin up on his hands, watching Iwaizumi began pulling leftovers from the refrigerator.

Six months ago, Iwaizumi would have told Oikawa without hesitation that he wished to be on a professional volleyball team, or maybe to find a job to sustain him. Now though, he couldn’t think of anything—he had everything he wanted.

“I can’t think of anything,” Iwaizumi said. “So thanks but no thanks. Save that for someone who really needs it.”

“That’s not the way it works,” Oikawa said, though he seemed to relax in his chair. “There’s nothing at all you want?”

Iwaizumi put his mother’s leftovers on a few different plates and started sticking them in the microwave to heat up. “I really can’t think of anything.” He shrugged. “I don’t know—what do you want? What do mermaids eat? I’ll wish for that.”

Oikawa pouted. “Don’t _waste_ your wish,” he said. “It can be anything! You won’t get another chance like this. At least think about it.”

“Fine,” Iwaizumi said because the merman clearly wasn’t going to let this go. “But what _do_ mermaids eat? What do you want for breakfast?”

Oikawa perked up. “Fish!” he said. “Shrimp!”

“Can you eat cooked food or do you need it raw?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa shrugged his pale shoulders. Even looking at him made Iwaizumi feel cold even though he’d seen the merman like this in the river which was a thousand times colder.

“Do you want to wear something?” Iwaizumi asked and went to look through his half-packed closet. He ended up unearthing an old green rain jacket his mother had bought for him at the beginning of his college career that he’d never actually worn, and gave it to Oikawa.

The merman struggled with the arms until Iwaizumi snorted and helped him tug it on. He started buttoning it up, but Oikawa quickly took over, and buttoned the raincoat right up to his chin. When he was done, he chirped, twisting around to admire himself. “Now I’m like Iwa-chan,” he said proudly and beamed at him.

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure why that, of all things, made him heat up, and he turned back to the refrigerator, feeling awkward. “I guess we’ll find out if you can eat cooked food cause I don’t have any fish left in the freezer,” he said, peering inside. He’d been trying to finish off everything he had before the move.

The merman watched, eyes bright and curious, as Iwaizumi used the microwave, and then poked at the chopsticks and plates that Iwaizumi put in front of him.

“Do you use utensils?” Iwaizumi asked.

“No, but I can learn.” Oikawa looked determined as he picked up the chopsticks and immediately fumbled them.

“You want a fork?” Iwaizumi asked.

“No! You’re not using one,” Oikawa said, glaring at the chopsticks as though they’d personally offended him and picked them up again.

It was amusing to watch the merman stare at him, the way he held the chopsticks, and Iwaizumi waited until Oikawa copied him before he started moving and eat his rice. Oikawa couldn’t, however, get his chopsticks to pick up any food, and he let out an annoyed trill, steadily growing more frustrated until Iwaizumi finally had pity on him and reached out to adjust his grip.

“Like this,” he explained, holding the merman’s fingers between his own and demonstrating how to maneuver the chopsticks. The merman’s hands were delicate-looking, so pale that Iwaizumi could see some of the blue veins through his skin, and soft between Iwaizumi’s callused hands. The merman chirped when he finally managed to pick up a piece of fish that way.

Rice was easier for him to eat since he only had to lift the bowl to his lips and scoop it into his mouth with the chopsticks. So was the miso soup, since he could use a spoon.

“This is good!” Oikawa said, and held his bowl out. “More soup please!”

“Well, I guess you're a Japanese river mermaid after all,” Iwaizumi said, breaking open another instant pack of miso soup and adding hot water for him. “You sure you don’t want this?” he asked, gesturing to Oikawa’s abandoned cup of coffee.

Oikawa wrinkled his nose. “I definitely don’t want it,” he said.

Iwaizumi shrugged and pulled the cooled coffee to himself. He could feel the flap-flap of the merman’s tail under the table where his tail gently brushed against his legs. The coffee in that paper cup didn’t taste as bitter.

 

* * *

 

The merman refused to leave. Although common sense and every movie with a similar plot logically said that Oikawa should be in the river where he could be free and happy, he seemed to be perfectly at home in Iwaizumi’s apartment, dragging himself around the room, making everything damp, and generally being a chatty nuisance. It was like he was determined to master Japanese within the course of a day because he wouldn’t shut up.

Iwaizumi indulged him for the first part of the morning since he would normally be at the gym anyway, and had only planned to do some more packing after that. But the merman kept at it, chattering into the afternoon until Iwaizumi was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“I have to practice, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined.

“And I need to nap,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m not going to be sick when I start my first day.”

“But Iwa-chan,” Oikawa protested.

“Ugh, watch TV if you need company,” he said and switched on the television for him. He was glad he’d procrastinated packing it until closer to the move date.

Oikawa jumped at the new sound at first, but almost immediately became mesmerized as he stared at the screen. He stared straight at it like a little kid, and went so quiet that Iwaizumi actually managed to fall asleep.

When he woke up again, he felt almost completely better. The sky had gone dim and only the fluorescent light from the television illuminated the room. Oikawa was still sitting in front of it, eyes wide with concentration, tail swishing every once in awhile. Iwaizumi stretched, working out the cricks in his neck and vowing to start working out again tomorrow.

“You ready to go back, yet?” Iwaizumi asked. His voice came out gruff with sleep and he went to the kitchen to get a cup of water. In a few hours, it would be completely dark and the streets would empty out so he could drop Oikawa back at the river without catching any unwanted attention.

“Go back?” Oikawa asked, eyes still glued to what looked like one of those stupid game shows.

“To your river,” Iwaizumi said.

“I don’t want to,” Oikawa said, sounding distracted and still turned toward the television. “I like it here.”

“Aren’t you a wild animal? Shouldn’t you like it out there?” Iwaizumi said.

“ _Rude!_ Oikawa-san is not an animal!” Oikawa said, turning his attention completely to Iwaizumi. “Oikawa-san is perfectly civilized!”

“Annoyingkawa needs to stop with the third person,” Iwaizumi said.

“Don’t abbreviate your insults, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa made a face at him. He dragged himself back to the table to sit in the chair.

“Annoying Oikawa. Better?” Iwaizumi grinned.

“No!”

Iwaizumi sighed. “Seriously, though, I’ll take you back tonight once the streets are emptier,” he said.

“I said no.” Oikawa crossed his arms. “You haven’t made a wish yet. You have to think of one before you leave.”

That sounded highly suspicious because Iwaizumi was sure he’d never mentioned moving to Oikawa. “How do you know about that?” he asked.

Oikawa widened his eyes. “I heard you mention it,” he said.

“Liar. I never talk when I jog,” Iwaizumi answered and narrowed his eyes. “Have you been stalking me?”

“No!” Oikawa denied, but a blush spread over his face. “I just—you’ve been here for four years and all college students graduate and—and your apartment is full of boxes. Of course you’re moving.” He gestured to the cardboard moving boxes still stacked against one wall. “Let me stay at least until you leave,” Oikawa bargained. “I won’t bother you at all. I’ll even help you pack. This is the only time I get to live in an apartment and it’s so cold outside.” He brought the puppy eyes out again.

Iwaizumi sighed. It would probably be a thousand times more difficult to get anything done with a full grown merman in his tiny apartment, but he’d rather have Oikawa satisfy his curiosity now than end up at some other human’s mercy in the future when he might not be so lucky. “Fine,” he said.

“Yay!” Oikawa cheered and his tail thumped against the table so enthusiastically, it nearly tipped it over.

“Watch that thing,” Iwaizumi said. “And you know I'm moving in three days.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened. “You—you’re moving in three days?” he asked and scooted forward, looking truly serious and anxious for the first time since Iwaizumi had met him. “But—but that’s almost no time at all,” Oikawa said. He reached across the table, an abortive gesture, before he retracted his hand again. “It’s okay. Three days is still enough,” he muttered to himself. “I can do it in three days.”

“What do you want to do?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Nothing,” Oikawa said brightly.

“Well, if there’s something you really want, say it now because you have two days,” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa's smile fell off his face and his brows furrowed. "You said it was three days."

“I’m moving on day three, and I won’t have time to take you to the river in the morning,” Iwaizumi said. “So I'll let you stay until tomorrow night, but that's it."

Oikawa opened his mouth to argue more, but Iwaizumi gave him his hardest look and folded his arms across his chest.

“Fine,” Oikawa said.

And so Iwaizumi found himself temporary roommates with a merman. It was both better and worse than he expected. Oikawa, possibly because he was a merman from the wild, had zero concept of personal boundaries, and followed Iwaizumi everywhere all day long. Oikawa draped himself over his shoulders to peer at the laptop when Iwaizumi was booking plane tickets so close that Iwaizumi could feel his warm breath on the shell of his ear. He made a nuisance of himself poking into the refrigerator, asking a million questions about what each item was. He tried to touch the stove as Iwaizumi was using it, all but climbing Iwaizumi like a tree so he could reach it, until Iwaizumi elbowed him off. Iwaizumi finally put him to work folding clothes just to keep him out of trouble, but Oikawa turned out to be terrible at it, his first attempts looking like a toddler had tried—at which point Iwaizumi discovered his perfectionist streak. Oikawa spent the next half hour laboriously adjusting the shirt until he got the folds perfect, showing Iwaizumi with a proud grin when he completed it. There was something about Oikawa’s single-minded determination in even the most trivial of things that was both worthy of admiration and annoying as hell.

At night, when Iwaizumi deemed himself done for the day, he piled packed boxes on top of each other and cleared a space around his couch and television so he could pull up Netflix. Since the merman would only get a few days to enjoy television, Iwaizumi decided to let him choose the show.

“This one,” Oikawa said, gesturing excitedly when the cursor hovered over Ridley Scott’s _Alien_.

“This is horror,” Iwaizumi said. “And about extraterrestrials. And it’s in English.”

“This one,” Oikawa said, eyes shining.

Iwaizumi sighed and clicked on it.

Oikawa immediately snuggled into Iwaizumi’s side, propping his head against Iwaizumi’s shoulder and winding his arms around one of Iwaizumi’s. It was a position that was too intimate for two people not actually dating, but apparently Oikawa hadn’t received the memo. Any attempt by Iwaizumi to dislodge him only earned him increasingly shrill clicks, and Oikawa would cuddle harder until he finally gave in.

Throughout the movie, Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa chirp excitedly any time the alien showed up on screen, fingers tightening around Iwaizumi’s arm, and seemingly alternately fascinated and terrified at the same time. His tail would flap when he was agitated, and he squealed out loud when he saw the alien burst out of the man’s chest. He still smelled faintly of vanilla although he hadn’t been in the bath for a few hours, and Iwaizumi could feel his hair, soft against his shoulder where Oikawa had pillowed his head.

“Can I sleep with you?” Oikawa asked when the movie was over.

“No,” Iwaizumi answered.

“But—”

“I am not sleeping next to a gross wet fish tail,” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa pouted. “I’m not gross,” he said.

“Sleeping next to something wet and slimy is gross,” Iwaizumi said. “Go to the bathtub. You’ll dry out and shed everywhere and I’m not dealing with that.”

Oikawa pouted, but gave in, following Iwaizumi to the bathroom where he set the tap running and folded himself into the tub, waiting as Iwaizumi brushed his teeth.

“Have you thought about your wish yet?” Oikawa asked when Iwaizumi was done rinsing. He was looking down at the water, hands splayed against the surface, but the tips of his ears were red.

“No,” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa’s shoulders slumped. “Oh,” he said.

Iwaizumi sighed and reached over, ruffling his hair and making him squawk.

“Stop, Iwa-chan,” he whined. “You’re making it all staticky.”

“Good night,” Iwaizumi said with a smile.

“Good night, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said and Iwaizumi thought he saw the merman blushing as his face sank beneath the water.

 

* * *

 

The next day, it took all of Iwaizumi’s stubborn willpower to resume his usual schedule, because Oikawa seemed determined to make things as difficult for him as possible. He got through his usual routine of brushing his teeth and making instant coffee, but as he was stumbling his way around boxes to the door, the merman threw himself in Iwaizumi’s way, refusing to let him out. When Iwaizumi lost patience and tried to drag the merman out to the river, he latched onto literally anything within reach, toppling tables and chairs, and finally screeching so loudly that Iwaizumi was forced to give up or deal with angry neighbors.

“Stay here then, but I’m going jogging,” Iwaizumi said, dumping Oikawa on the couch so hard he bounced a little.

“But Iwa-chan, there’s only today left,” Oikawa whined, and as soon as Iwaizumi moved, he launched himself over to latch onto him by the waist.

“Will you quit it? It’s too early for this, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said because not only was he not awake enough for this type of physical exertion, he also didn’t have the mental capacity to argue with him right now.

“But Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. “Then you’re moving! _Forever!_ ”

“I have to go work out, Shittykawa. I’ve already been slacking,” Iwaizumi said.

“Work out here,” Oikawa said. He was pulling the puppy eyes again, and it made Iwaizumi mad how effective they were.

“That’s no—” Iwaizumi gave up trying to explain it to him and resorted to bribery. “Look, if you let me go work out, I’ll bring lunch back for you, okay? Sushi.”

“ _And_ you have to stay with me for the rest of the day,” Oikawa insisted. His tail kept flapping, and Iwaizumi realized the merman was seriously agitated even though he wasn’t talking about it in any way Iwaizumi could understand.

Iwaizumi had made plans with a few ex-teammates for dinner before he left, but he’d come back in a few months so he could hang out with them then. “Fine,” he said.

Oikawa didn’t look happy, but he loosened his grip enough for Iwaizumi to step out of it. “Promise, Iwa-chan?”

“All right. I promise,” Iwaizumi said, tying up his shoes and heading outdoors.

As he began his jog, he felt like something was off. Then he realized that this was the first time in two weeks where a merman wasn’t waiting to be rolled back into the river.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi got through his usual workout, but for once, he felt awake the entire time while doing it, mind drifting back to Oikawa constantly as he did deadlifts at the gym. The merman was interesting, and not just because he was half-fish—his whole personality was that way—a little bit brazen, a little bit shy, a lot flirty and obnoxious, but in a way where it was fun. He was sweet, Iwaizumi thought, and innocent despite his show of being experienced in the world.

In another life, if Oikawa were a human, Iwaizumi might want to date him—could see himself falling for Oikawa with all his complexities and that hint of vulnerability he had about him.

“Tell me about mermaids,” Iwaizumi said that afternoon when he brought order-out sushi back to the apartment with him.

“There’s not very many river mermaids anymore,” Oikawa said between bites, chirping with pleasure as he licked soy sauce off his fingers. “More ocean mermaids—probably,” he said. “What’s this?” He picked up a glob of wasabi before Iwaizumi could stop him and stuck the whole thing in his mouth.

“Wait—”

Iwaizumi could see the exact moment the wasabi hit his taste buds because Oikawa’s entire tail stood on end and he froze and gave a full body shudder before he spit it all back out.

“My mouth!” Oikawa cried.

Iwaizumi handed him a glass of water, and couldn’t help the chuckle when Oikawa chugged it in record speed and asked for another. It turned into full blown laughter when Oikawa turned tearful eyes at him.

“That was the _worst_ thing I’ve ever experienced in my whole life ever, Iwa-chan,” he said, sipping on his third glass of water. “Stop laughing.”

“I’ve never seen anyone try to eat a whole spoonful of wasabi,” Iwaizumi said. He started laughing again every time he thought about Oikawa’s face. “You’re supposed to mix in a little bit with the soy sauce like this.”

He demonstrated, pouring soy sauce and a tiny bit of wasabi into a small dish and mixing it. “Here.”

“No way,” Oikawa said, picking up another piece of sushi and ignoring the dish altogether.

“It’s good,” Iwaizumi said.

“I don’t believe you,” Oikawa sniffed.

“Just try a little,” Iwaizumi said, dabbing a piece of sushi in the soy sauce-wasabi mix and holding it out for Oikawa.

“No.” Oikawa turned his head away.

Iwaizumi jabbed him in the cheek with the sushi. “Just one bite.”

“No, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined, but Iwaizumi could see him start to smile.

“Say ah,” Iwaizumi said.

“I’m not go—”

Iwaizumi stuck the sushi in his mouth and left it there, forcing Oikawa to scramble with his fingers to stuff the rest of the sushi in or let it drop to the table. Oikawa glared at him, cheeks bulging from the rice and fish but his expression turned thoughtful as he chewed and then swallowed.

“Good, right?” Iwaizumi said.

“It’s okay…” Oikawa conceded. “But Iwa-chan is such a savage.”

“Are all mermaids like you?” Iwaizumi asked, picking up another piece of sushi and dipping it in his sauce. He held it out for Oikawa who, after a moment of hesitation, also dipped his own piece of sushi in.

“I’ve met some from the Natori River,” he said. “I don’t like them,” he added in afterthought. “They think they’re better than everyone else just because their river opens to the ocean. If I left, that would show them—then they’d have to take care of Hirose River _and_ Natori River.” He grinned.

“No family then?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa tilted his head. “Mermaids don’t have family,” he said. “We just exist—we’re nature…” He trilled. “Nature spirits? Gods? Guardians? We don’t need family.”

“Isn’t it lonely?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa stiffened and then gave Iwaizumi the fakest smile he’d ever seen anyone make. “Of course not!” he said. “Oikawa-san likes it—other mermaids are annoying,” he said.

“You’re annoying,” Iwaizumi said.

“Mean, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said with a pout. “Anyway, I am very busy every day, you know.”

“With what?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Iwa-chan really wants to know?” Oikawa asked.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. What do mermaids do all day?”

“Well, I have to hunt for fish to eat,” Oikawa said. “Of course I am the best fish hunter in Japan so I’m very efficient,” he said. “I like this, though.” He gestured to the soy sauce. “I can’t flavor food under the water—it doesn’t taste as good.” He held up his piece of sushi. “What is this? I like this.”

“Mackerel,” Iwaizumi said. “They live in the ocean.”

Oikawa pouted. “Not fair. Ocean fish taste better,” he said.

“Well, there’s two pieces left. Help yourself,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to the tray. “What else?”

Oikawa hummed. “Then I take care of the river,” he said. “Nowadays, it usually means to clean it.”

“Clean the river?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa nodded enthusiastically. “So many things get dumped into the river. It’s what we do,” he said. “Or everything would die.” He looked a little sad for just a moment before he jabbed a piece of sushi into the soy sauce again. “We help to keep it clean so it can survive. It’s always nice when the river floods because it washes up a lot of trash and I don’t have to work as much for a few days,” he said cheerfully. “And then, if I have free time, I get to study.”

“Study what?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Humans, of course,” Oikawa said. “It’s how I learned to read,” he said. “But I also want to learn to write. And speak better.” Even in the few days he’d been with Iwaizumi, his accent had almost completely disappeared. “Humans are fun,” he said. “There’s so many of you. Iwa-chan has lots of friends too.” He sounded wistful. “Iwa-chan should make a wish,” he said. “Have you thought about it?”

Iwaizumi hadn’t, but in that moment, he wanted to wish for Oikawa to stay with him. This lonely, little merman who Iwaizumi felt like he needed to take care of, and who he would worry about now when he left tomorrow—Oikawa would be all right, of course—they’d known each other for less than two weeks and Oikawa had survived all these years fine on his own. But Iwaizumi didn’t want him to have to be alone when Oikawa so clearly craved company. The want welled up his chest sudden and thick.

“No,” Iwaizumi said. “I haven’t thought about it.”

Oikawa sighed. “Iwa-chan, you said I have to leave tonight,” he said. “When else are you going to make the wish?”

“I’ll think about it,” Iwaizumi said. “Be quiet and eat your sushi.”

 

* * *

 

Oikawa helped him pack the last of his things for the big move tomorrow, chirping away the whole time. He kept asking questions about everything—he wanted to know about where Iwaizumi had gotten each one of his plates and utensils (his mom), why there was a hole in his backpack (he’d torn it by accident carrying a rock once for a project), why he owned shoes with different treads on the bottoms (for different sports although he mainly used Mizuno volleyball shoes or Nike running shoes now), who cut his hair (himself with an electric clipper he’d bought from Amazon a few years back when he got tired of having to pay for haircuts), how he’d gotten the scar on his left elbow (volleyball injury from when he’d hit the floor wrong trying to save the ball), if he had any pets (no, but he’d always wanted a dog), and so on.

His favorite, of all the things Iwaizumi had fed him so far, was the miso soup. His least favorite was the instant coffee. He also took a liking to one of Iwaizumi’s cream-colored sweatshirts because it was new and soft. When Iwaizumi caught him running his fingers along the inside of it for the fifth time, Iwaizumi gave in and let him wear it.

“But it’ll get wet,” Oikawa said mournfully, looking down at his tail.

“It’s fine. You can keep it,” Iwaizumi said and helped him pull it over his head. The sweatshirt was a little large on him, settling around where Oikawa’s hips would be if he were a human, and immediately starting to grow damp at the edges. Still, Oikawa looked so happy huddled into the sweatshirt, that Iwaizumi figured it would be one last nice memory for him before he had to dump him back in the river and that sweatshirt was ruined forever.

When they taped up the last box, the sky was just darkening.

“You want to go home early?” Iwaizumi asked and grinned when Oikawa looked offended.

“You promised to spend time with me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, smacking his tail against Iwaizumi’s legs.

“Well, there’s nothing to do here,” Iwaizumi said. “And it’s not like we can go out. Aren’t you bored?”

“Oikawa-san is a _merman_ ,” he said, tossing his hair. “How could Iwa-chan be bored around me?”

Iwaizumi faked a yawn and earned himself a slap to the arm.

“ _Rude_ , Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said.

Iwaizumi grinned. “Well then, what do you want to do?” he asked.

Oikawa thought for a moment. “I want to cook something—I want to bake something!” he said eagerly. “It looks fun!”

Iwaizumi stared at him. “Really? Right after we packed everything?” He’d been planning to just order out for the night.

“Please?” Oikawa said, flashing his most innocent smile at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi sighed because he was a man of his word. “Fine, but only one thing—what do you want to make?” he asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s something fun? Can we make a cake? The really fancy cute ones!”

“Too hard.” Iwaizumi pulled up his laptop and pulled up a recipe website. “Choose something easy and doesn’t take too much time,” he said and began scrolling for Oikawa to look.

In the end, after vetoing several of the fancier things Oikawa wanted to make, Oikawa settled on coffee-flavored milkbread.

“You hate coffee,” Iwaizumi said, looking at the recipe.

“But you like it, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said and smiled, and Iwaizumi had nothing to say to that.

Oikawa allowed Iwaizumi to run to the grocery store to pick up ingredients, and apparently by the time he got back, Oikawa had memorized the recipe. Iwaizumi knew the general principles of baking, but had never done it before outside of a school festival baking booth back in high school. But between the two of them, they combined the ingredients in a way that didn’t look inedible, at least. Oikawa had a surprising amount of tenacity since they had to stir the mix by hand, and Iwaizumi found himself staring at Oikawa with a smudge of flour on his cheek and his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration as he stirred. It was annoyingly cute, and even when Iwaizumi offered to take over for him, Oikawa shook his head and said he wanted to do it himself.

As they waited for the dough to rise, Iwaizumi put on another alien movie and found himself with Oikawa draped over his legs, lazily flipping his tail as he watched the opening sequence.

“Move over, you’re heavy,” Iwaizumi said, trying to get Oikawa to move his tail, but Oikawa just shifted further into Iwaizumi’s lap.

He gave Iwaizumi a short glance which told him that the merman knew exactly what he was doing.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Fine, you’re asking for it,” he said and began touching Oikawa’s face with his floury hands.

“No, Iwa-chan! You’re getting flour everywhere!” Oikawa yelped and tried to push Iwaizumi’s hands away.

Iwaizumi jabbed at him everywhere he could reach—his neck, his arms, leaving a trail of white fingerprints behind him and making Oikawa shriek with laughter. “Stop, Iwa-chan! You’re making me miss the movie!”

Iwaizumi grinned. “Who started it?” he said, and moved closer, wiping his hands on Oikawa’s cheek.

“No, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa dissolved into laughter, grabbing at Iwaizumi’s hands and trying to tug them away. In that moment, with Oikawa’s eyes squinty with laughter, cheeks flushed, wriggling in Iwaizumi’s arms, Iwaizumi found his breath caught.

Oikawa seemed to sense the change because he stopped squirming, looking up at Iwaizumi, eyes a beautiful amber the color of the river after the flood.

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure who made the first move—himself leaning down or Oikawa tilting up when their lips met. The merman’s lips were soft and dry and warm, just a brief touch that lit all of Iwaizumi’s senses on fire. Oikawa let out a little trill when they parted, eyes coming halfway open, a liquid brown, and then he was winding his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and pulling him back down.

Oikawa was like no one Iwaizumi had ever kissed before. His mouth tasted like the sugar he’d snuck while they were baking, and he smelled like new clothes and vanilla cream. He kept letting out little gasps and trills, and Iwaizumi could feel his whole body shivering, his tail swaying from side to side as he tugged Iwaizumi closer. Iwaizumi couldn’t get close enough. Oikawa’s body twitched under his as he ran his hands down his sides, and when Iwaizumi pulled back to breath, Oikawa followed him, tilting his head up for another kiss.

The merman’s mouth was swollen and glistening, his face painted red and eyes half-lidded, the shadow of his long eyelashes dusting his face. He was the most beautiful person Iwaizumi had ever seen, and he loved that he could feel Oikawa’s smile against his mouth when he kissed him again and again and again.

They made out until the timer went off, indicating the dough ready, and then they divided it up until pieces as quickly as possible, stealing kisses in between before they shoved the dough into the oven.

It was a little awkward when Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa back into his lap on the couch. Oikawa didn’t have the legs to straddle him, but they made it work, Iwaizumi’s hands settling around Oikawa’s hips. He discovered Oikawa was sensitive where his skin began turning into scales, and every time he brushed his fingers over that dip in his back, Oikawa would shiver and gasp and cling a little tighter to him.

The milkbread almost ended up burnt because they kept ignoring the timer when it went off, reluctant to stop.

This whole thing was completely out of character for Iwaizumi. He didn’t do casual relationships—he always felt like he was using them if he didn’t intend to pursue a relationship. But with Oikawa, a relationship was obviously impossible and yet, he couldn’t seem to help himself. Oikawa was his type, and the more he got to know him and got to touch him, the more he liked him.

Iwaizumi felt no sense of shame or embarrassment when Oikawa flirted and fed him a piece of their milkbread. He kissed the tip of Oikawa’s finger, making the merman laugh and press his lips to Iwaizumi’s cheek.

“This would be better with coffee,” Iwaizumi said and Oikawa made a face. “Real coffee,” he clarified. “Not this shitty, instant stuff—I wish I could take you to a real cafe,” he said. “Or at least make you real coffee in my coffee maker. It’s not the fanciest one, but it does drip coffee pretty well. You could have cream and sugar in yours.”

Oikawa smiled at him. “Iwa-chan is so nice. I’d like that,” he said and kissed him again.

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure when exactly the affectionate, flirty pecks turned back into Oikawa squirming in his lap at the couch. But as the sun set and their kisses trailed off, Oikawa told him in a warm whisper, “You know, I’ve always been in love with Iwa-chan,” he said, eyes shining in the warm light from the kitchen. “Ever since Iwa-chan jumped in my river to rescue that puppy from drowning, I’ve been watching Iwa-chan always,” he whispered, stroking the side of Iwaizumi’s face.

“That was four years ago,” Iwaizumi said, frowning.

Oikawa smiled and nodded, pressing his fingers to Iwaizumi’s brow until he’d smoothed out the furrow again. “I wanted to meet you. I was so happy when Iwa-chan rescued me.”

That threw a dash of cold water on Iwaizumi, as he realized Oikawa was already attached—to be honest, so was Iwaizumi even if he hadn’t known about the merman’s existence until two weeks ago. He was going to Osaka tomorrow morning.

It took every ounce of willpower for Iwaizumi to straighten up. “I need to take you back.” He closed his eyes.

He felt Oikawa stiffen in his arms. “But I don’t want to,” Oikawa said. He was biting his lip when Iwaizumi opened his eyes again. “Is it because of what I said?” His shoulders curled in and it was like he was shrinking in on himself.

“No,” Iwaizumi said. “Yes. It doesn’t matter,” he said, backing away from Oikawa to put a little bit of distance between them. He immediately felt cold without hm. “I can’t stay.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Oikawa said. “Use your wish,” he said, following Iwaizumi up. “Make your wish, Iwa-chan.”

It was the single most tempting thing anyone had ever said to him. If there was some sort of magic that could keep Oikawa with him—if he could come home to this sweet merman every night, bake milkbread together, watch shitty alien movies. But he couldn’t stay—not when he finally had everything he had ever worked for just in reach of his fingertips. And he couldn’t make Oikawa come with him—he couldn’t keep him locked up in an apartment, dragging himself along with his arms, unable to swim when the largest body of water Iwaizumi would have access to was a bathtub. He couldn’t be that selfish, particularly when he really could fall in love with Oikawa. It would just get harder as time passed—Oikawa might even grow to resent him for keeping him locked up even though Iwaizumi didn’t have a choice, and Iwaizumi would have to live with the guilt. He couldn’t do that to either of them. They had to stop now before everything got worse.

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again. “No, I’m taking you back,” he said.

Oikawa’s face, shining with determination just a moment ago, shuttered and he pasted a horribly fake smile on his face. “I guess three days wasn’t enough to get Iwa-chan to fall in love with me,” he said. “Even though I tried my best. I’m just a merman after all.”

Iwaizumi got to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and we’ll go in a minute,” he said.

He glanced back just once, and saw Oikawa scrub a hand across his face, and a drop of wetness splash onto the scales of his lap.

Oikawa didn’t try to argue again, going silent through the whole thing as Iwaizumi put on a coat and picked him up. He didn’t latch on the way he usually did, only holding loosely to the front of Iwaizumi’s coat.

Iwaizumi didn’t like the silence. He’d gotten used to the merman’s constant chatter, the way his face lit up as he talked, asking questions about any and everything. It was all the harder now that he knew what his mouth tasted like, had seen him smile the most beautiful smile in the world at Iwaizumi, had held him in his arms.

The streets were empty as Iwaizumi snuck the merman across and to the banks of the river. Oikawa shifted in his arms, and Iwaizumi heard one last quiet sniffle.

“Oikawa,” he began. Now that it was down to the wire, he didn’t know what to say to the merman.

“Don’t apologize, Iwaizumi,” Oikawa said. His tail flicked as though involuntary in Iwaizumi’s arms. “If you can’t love me, just let me go.”

So Iwaizumi did as he was told and set Oikawa down at the edge of the embankment.

Oikawa turned to look at him as he did. When their eyes met, Iwaizumi could see the moon reflected in them and he looked so, so beautiful. Oikawa opened his mouth, and then shut it again. He bit his lip, turned, and dove into the coffee-colored river.

Without even a splash, he disappeared from view.

Iwaizumi stood staring out at the river that had grown calm now. He could hear the rush of water, and the distant buzz of the electric wires behind him at the streets. Oikawa didn’t reappear. After awhile, standing beneath the moonlight and looking out at the river he’d run alongside for four years, Iwaizumi turned and headed back into his apartment.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi woke early the next day, but he didn’t go to the river for his usual jog, staying indoors until the movers came. He helped them load everything into the truck, and then the movers set out for the long drive to Osaka while Iwaizumi headed to grab a last lunch with two of his best friends.

“So it’s finally come time for you to leave us,” Matsukawa said. Both he and Hanamaki slapped Iwaizumi on the back as they went inside their favorite ramen restaurant.

“So you’re really going to go pro,” Hanamaki said. He sighed. “I have so many regrets…”

“Of not beating me in arm wrestling?” Iwaizumi said, grinning. “Want one last go?”

“Tempting, but I’ll pass,” Hanamaki said, waving him away as they took turns entering their orders into the ticketing machine. “Let me practice some more because next time you come back, I’ll beat you.”

“Yeah, don’t forget about us old pals, the ones who supported you from your humble beginnings,” Matsukawa said. “When you make the big bucks.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “You know it doesn’t actually pay that much, right? Or I wouldn’t need a second job.”

“All I know is you’re getting paid to play volleyball,” Hanamaki said. “Whereas I am going to be slave driven at the corporate office.” He groaned and draped himself over Matsukawa’s shoulder, making him stumble and almost trip into another customer.

They piled into a booth, Matsukawa and Hanamaki elbowing each other for room and everything devolved into casual banter the way things had always been with them. They had all met in high school when they’d been three first years joining the volleyball club together who were also all in the same class. Matsukawa and Hanamaki were close almost from the beginning—the same type of stupid humor, the same willingness to have zero boundaries when it came to each other—sharing everything from uniforms to food. Then they got together sometime through their second year, which explained that.

They were considerate, though, and never made Iwaizumi feel like a third wheel when he was with them. He would have trouble finding friends as good as them in Osaka, he thought. There was something about having grown up with someone and sharing a lot of awkward adolescent moments that developed a sort of closeness that would take a long time to build up with anyone else. He’d come back to visit, though, and they would visit him, and in the meanwhile, there were always texting and skype calls.

But even though Iwaizumi knew this was the last time he’d see them for a long time, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting to Oikawa constantly throughout the lunch. He thought about how Oikawa would react being taken to a ramen shop—if he’d like it or think it was too flavorful—judging from how Oikawa had reacted to miso soup, he’d probably like it. Or thinking about how Oikawa would react if he met Matsukawa and Hanamaki—those two would probably tease him to death and he could see Oikawa whining but laughing also. He wondered if the way he just clicked with Oikawa was how Hanamaki and Matsukawa felt about each other.

Of course none of that mattered because he was never going to see Oikawa again.

“Hey man, you sure you’re going to be okay out there without us?” Hanamaki asked as they stepped back out of the restaurant.

“I’m an adult,” Iwaizumi said.

Matsukawa clapped him on the back. “Call us when you get there. And come back to visit.”

“We’re still your best friends,” Hanamaki said. “We’ve claimed that position so when you’re rich and famous, we’re the ones who get to tell embarrassing stories about your high school days.”

“I think we all know I was never the most embarrassing one,” Iwaizumi said.

“Damn babe, he’s right,” Matsukawa said.

“Yeah, that was definitely you.” Hanamaki grinned at him.

Iwaizumi laughed. “Come visit me in Osaka where it’s less damn cold.”

“Will do,” Matsukawa said, and then he and Hanamaki waved as Iwaizumi headed for the bus stop.

In the daylight, he could see the river, still swollen and foaming, but calmer than it had been in recent times, the sunlight glinting off the brown water that had begun to settle. He saw a heron glide over the water and land on the embankment, but even though he watched until the bus turned the corner, the surface never rippled.

 

* * *

 

Osaka was a proper big city in comparison to Sendai. It was the first time Iwaizumi would be living in a city this size. He had a found great apartment—only a few years old—that was far more spacious than his old university pad, and only a five minute walk from the nearest train station. Although he’d loved it when he’d signed the lease just a few months ago, now, he found himself missing that cramped little 1LDK with all the wet patches Oikawa left on the floor and the scent of vanilla coming from the bathroom.

His first morning there, he woke to the sound of rain outside his window. The entire city was covered in gray clouds, and rain droplets clung to his 11th story window. Down below, he could see small, moving umbrellas.

With nothing in his new flat, Iwaizumi looked for a coat and found the green raincoat he’d lent to Oikawa—one of the last things he’d ended up packing because he had been using it. The lingering scent of vanilla stayed with him all the way to the nearest cafe.

The one he found was non-descript and he ordered an omelette-rice and espresso for brunch. The cafe smelled of tobacco from some of the other patrons taking shelter from the rain, and Iwaizumi picked up an old magazine to read as he waited for his order. The espresso was good—the best coffee he’d had in two weeks. He lingered in the cafe, listening to the clink of silverware on ceramic plates and the quiet murmur of other customers. It was still raining, but Iwaizumi jogged the two blocks back to his apartment just in time to see the moving truck pull up.

It took a little more than an hour to unload all his things since his mattress took some maneuvering to get into the elevator. After they left, he called his mom who told him about five times to make sure he cooked and didn’t eat out too much and bought fresh groceries. He ordered out for dinner—takeout sushi for one person. The mackerel sashimi was pricier since it wasn’t on their set menu, but Iwaizumi selected that too.

The day after that, Iwaizumi went to meet his new team. The coach showed him around their facilities, and then he changed into his practice uniform and went to meet his new team for his first official practice with the Osaka Blazers Sakai.

Iwaizumi had always loved sports ever since he was a kid—everything from rock climbing to swimming, but volleyball was his favorite. He liked that he could be on a team full of people equally impassioned to win and who counted on him and who he could count on. It was a small team too—intimate and close unlike some of the other sports with much larger teams—just six on the court. It was fun, between the strategy and skill, but in the end, came down to instinct, and Iwaizumi’s instinct hadn’t failed him yet.

He performed all right for his first practice—still recovering from the cold so not quite in top form—but his new senpais were friendly and forgiving, and by the end, he nailed a spike, breaking through the opposite team’s blocking wall.

The way they clapped him on the back and welcomed him to the team felt good. They all went out for a welcome dinner together at a popular shabu-shabu place, but even though Iwaizumi had fun and a whole set of new numbers stored in his phone and invitations to hang out, to work out, to shop for things he’d need for his new apartment, he found himself dropping into bed at his new apartment feeling like his day wasn’t complete. He missed the smell of vanilla, the delighted trill of a laugh, the soft cool touch of slender fingers on his skin.

The first week was spent acclimating to his new city and his new team. He respected the coaches and their captain and vice, and while his new teammates were a step above his old university club since these were all professionals, the majority of them were also just young men in their twenties and thirties so Iwaizumi was invited to multiple gym sessions during the day and izakaya food and drinks at night.

Iwaizumi spent as much time as possible training and practicing volleyball with any willing teammates before he had to begin his training period with the Osaka Municipal Fire Department in a month.

Between practicing himself to exhaustion and having no reason to hurry, Iwaizumi took his time unpacking anything he didn’t immediately need. So by the time he was halfway through the week, he had an assortment of half-unpacked boxes with clothes hanging halfway out of them in his search for other clothes. A few boxes had been opened so he could get out storage containers and a cup and plate and chopsticks. He couldn’t get up the willpower to look for his coffee maker, but he unearthed his electric kettle so he continued suffering shitty instant coffee.

At the end of the first week, he finally gave in and went to Matsumoto Kiyoshi for a new bottle of shampoo instead of just using bar soap for everything. He stood staring at two bottles—one scented “neutral” and the other scented “vanilla.” The vanilla-scented one was 100-yen more, and after he attracted a confused look from a teenage boy also buying shampoo, he put the vanilla-scented one back and went for the neutral. Halfway to the cash register, he changed his mind and turned back to grab the vanilla-scented bottle.

At the end of the second week, it got warm enough that he could start wearing sweatshirts instead of coats. He found the cream-colored sweatshirt he’d given Oikawa folded into his belongings, but it was stained brown along all the edges from Oikawa’s use. He thought he could probably get the spots out, but it would mean having to buy a stain-remover. In the end, Iwaizumi hung it up in his closet and bought a new sweatshirt instead.

At the end of his third week, he got his first skype call from Matsukawa and Hanamaki. He looked forward to hearing from them, but it surprised him how much he wished the call had been from someone else.

“How’s our ace doing?” Matsukawa asked as soon as their pictures cleared on Iwaizumi’s phone.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi said with a yawn.

Hanamaki grinned. “That tired, huh?” His picture came in clear, but there was some sort of persistent wailing noise in the background that kept interfering with his voice.

“I’ve been up since 5 o’clock studying the training manual for the fire department,” Iwaizumi said. “You’re lucky I’m talking to you at all.”

“Look at him, he’s already become an old man without us to keep him young,” Hanamaki said.

“It’s a sad thing.” Matsukawa shook his head. “Are those white hairs I already see?”

“Say it ain’t so,” Hanamaki said.

“I’m hanging up,” Iwaizumi said. “How are things in Sendai?” he asked. “And what’s that annoying noise? Is that coming from you or me?”

“It’s not the phone—it’s that weird sound that’s been coming from the river,” Hanamaki said. “Sorry, I forgot. It’s always the worst at night.”

Iwaizumi suddenly felt a lot more awake. “Where are you?” he asked.

“That 24-hour cafe by your old place. Takahiro wanted those creampuffs they make for dessert,” Matsukawa said. “Should we move someplace more quiet?”

“You said the sound is coming from the river?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Yeah, it started almost right after you left,” Hamamaki said. “Actually, it’s pretty interesting. We’ve got a bunch of scientists out here trying to figure out where it’s coming from but get this—people have been claiming to see mermaids out here,” he said. “It’s all over the internet—I’m surprised you haven’t heard yet.”

“People saw mermaids?” Iwaizumi demanded.

“Probably just a really big fish or something,” Matsukawa said. “But yeah, we’ve got some of those uh—cryptozoologists out here even.”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi interrupted.

“Rude.” Matsukawa looked offended but went quiet.

Iwaizumi listened to the weird sound in the background. He wasn’t sure if it was just wishful thinking, or if it really sounded like Oikawa’s voice. It sounded similar to that first time he’d heard Oikawa crying when he’d been lodged up in the tree, but it had been significantly louder and more ear-piercing before. This sound was more of a continuous wail like a siren or a song where the singer was holding the note in just the way that made it echo off the eardrums. Then the wail turned into a series of very familiar trills and clicks.

“That fucking idiot,” Iwaizumi breathed as the clicks turned back into a wailing sort of trill that didn’t sound completely like a human being, but also not like any animal he’d ever heard.

“I need to go,” Iwaizumi said.

“Wait—”

He hung up and began searching for the next flight to Sendai.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Iwaizumi stepped out of the taxi by the banks of Hirose River, he could hear the trilling wail and headed straight for the river bank. The flight had gotten in at just past midnight, and the river—apart from the wailing—was silent at this time of night. As Iwaizumi jogged closer to the riverbank, he saw that someone had stuck caution tape all along that section of the river, but it seemed that whatever researchers Matsukawa and Hanamaki had talked about had abandoned the river and turned in for the night. Iwaizumi ducked under the the tape to skid down the embankment.

It wasn’t until he got close that he the sound wasn’t coming from inside the river like Iwaizumi had originally assumed Oikawa had at least enough common sense to do—but outside in the open air.

It took almost no time for Iwaizumi to follow the sound to the source to see Oikawa lying curled up on the mud under the tree where Iwaizumi had first met him, letting out that trilling sob. He’d been out there long enough that his tail looked dry and dull the way fish looked when they’d been set out at a market stall for too long.

“Oikawa, you fucking idiot!” Iwaizumi shouted.

The wailing stopped, jarringly abrupt. Oikawa turned to look at him, the expression on his face slack in a way that made Iwaizumi’s heart hurt. He saw the merman blink once, twice, and even from the distance, he could see those gorgeous long eyelashes as Oikawa stared as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You fucking piece of shit,” Iwaizumi said and stalked forward.

Oikawa’s eyes widen, and he let out a little squeak, before the merman immediately began backing into the water. That first confirmed that he had always been able to get back into the water all those times he’d claimed to be beached, and second, was annoying as hell when Iwaizumi was trying to reach him.

“Oikawa, don’t you dare—”

The merman slid completely under water.

“Get out here!” Iwaizumi shouted.

He didn’t come up.

Iwaizumi looked around the banks until he found a rock around the size of his fist and threw it into the river. “Get the fuck out, you shitty mermaid! I swear to god!”

He saw a spot darken near the middle of the river, and then slowly a head peeked out.

“Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi roared.

Oikawa flinched, but came closer again until he was finally right beside the riverbank again.

Iwaizumi took one step inside, soaking his shoe, and dragged the merman out by the arm. “What kind of a fucking idiot are you?” he shouted. “Do you want to get caught and dissected? Sold to the fish market and eaten for sushi, you fucking moron?”

“What does Iwa-chan care,” Oikawa said, sulky. Even in the moonlight, Iwaizumi could see his eyes were puffy and he was skinny—too skinny for someone he’d seen just three weeks ago. His hair was dull, his lips—even though he’d just been underwater—looked dry and cracked. He looked awful, like he’d been starving himself. “You left me.”

“You knew I had to leave!” Iwaizumi shouted. He headbutted Oikawa in the forehead hard.

Oikawa yelped and rubbed at his forehead. “That hurt, Iwa-chan! What was that for?”

“For your absolute idiocy! Do you even know how loud and annoying your crying is?” Iwaizumi shouted. “You’re disturbing the whole neighborhood!”

“ _Mean_ , Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. “What are you doing here anyway?” He sounded sulky, but he hadn’t tried to extricate himself from Iwaizumi’s grip or move away from him.

“I had to come back because some idiot mermaid wouldn’t shut up and stop making me worry,” Iwaizumi said. “Why are you so melodramatic?” he demanded.

“I am _not_ ,” Oikawa protested.

“What were you going to do if I didn’t come back?” Iwaizumi asked. Oikawa’s arm, where Iwaizumi was holding him, was so thin that Iwaizumi’s hand could reach almost all the way around. He wondered if he’d eaten at all since Iwaizumi left. “Let yourself get caught and carted off to some lab?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Oikawa snapped, curling in on himself. Even his bones looked too sharp beneath his skin and he was too pale. “It’s not like I have anyone else,” he said. “It doesn’t matter if I never get to see Iwa-chan again anyway.”

Iwaizumi felt the fight leave him. “You can’t come with me, Oikawa,” he said. “You know that.” He pulled Oikawa close. Iwaizumi was crouched on a muddy riverbank, up to his ankles in mud. Oikawa no longer smelled like vanilla cream, and Iwaizumi no longer had the taste of bitter, paper-cup coffee in his mouth, but it was the first time in three weeks that he felt like he was home.

“Because Iwa-chan doesn’t want me,” Oikawa said, shoulders hunching. His face was starting to scrunch up in that ugly way that meant he was going to start crying again.

“I do want you,” Iwaizumi said before he could start. “I want you, Shittykawa. I’ve never wanted anyone or anything more. You’re the shittiest person I’ve ever met, you’re spoiled rotten, and you make the ugliest face when you cry—”

Oikawa shot him a dirty look.

“—you’re overly persistent and you have no sense of self-preservation—how the hell have you even survived this long without getting fished?” Iwaizumi said.

“Well, if that’s how you feel then—”

“I’m not done yet,” Iwaizumi said. “You never let me finish,” he said. “But you’re also the most genuine person I know, and determined as hell to get what you want, and I love the way your eyes light up when you find something you like, and how you’re always 200% about everything.” He reached out and pushed Oikawa’s hair—clumped with mud the way it had been that first time Iwaizumi had found him in the tree. “You make me feel like I have to take care of you—I want to take care of you.”

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa said. He was shaking in his arms, just a thin tremble, and Iwaizumi could see fat drops of tears falling down his face.

And that was when Iwaizumi knew he was fucked. Because even though Oikawa was a mess—even though he’d been starving himself and was covered in mud, and needed attention all of the time, and he got everything Iwaizumi owned wet, and he was loud and never knew when to shut up, and he had the worst personality in all of Sendai—even then, he was the only thing Iwaizumi wanted. For three weeks, even though Iwaizumi had everything he’d ever worked for, this was the first time he felt content.

“I bought vanilla shampoo because you always smell like vanilla," Iwaizumi said. "This is the first time I've ever willingly bought shampoo in my life. I could have normal, freshly brewed coffee at my new apartment now, but I kept drinking shitty, instant coffee for three weeks because it reminded me of you. Fuck,” he exhaled. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Oikawa gave a broken little sob. “Then please _please_ make the wish,” he said. “I love you. I want to stay with you. I’ve always been—I’ve always been alone until I met Iwa-chan,” he said. “Please.”

Iwaizumi had lived three weeks without him, and the want had never gotten better. There were still all the reasons this wouldn’t work out, but if this was the way he felt about Oikawa, Iwaizumi would do everything in his power to keep Oikawa in love with him, to keep Oikawa happy and content. He would devote his life to it.

“I wish you could stay with me forever,” Iwaizumi said. Almost before the words were out of his mouth, Oikawa was already reaching for him, and then they were kissing.

Iwaizumi saw fireworks go off as their lips met, and even though Oikawa’s were chapped and tasted like stale river water, he’d never wanted to do anything more, pulling him closer right there in the mud. He felt Oikawa’s arms wind around his neck, swallowed the low little trilling sounds in the back of his throat as Iwaizumi kissed him, felt that shiver go down Oikawa’s spine as he trailed his hand lower to that dip in his back. Oikawa gave a little squeak and pulled himself completely into Iwaizumi’s lap, legs splayed out on either side of him—

Iwaizumi opened his eyes and looked down. Sometime during that kiss, Oikawa’s tail had disappeared, leaving in its place a dusting of iridescent scales and a pair of long, pale legs—Iwaizumi stopped before his eyes could roam any higher than his thighs, and focused back up at Oikawa’s face. The former merman’s eyes were still closed, a high flush on his cheeks, and mouth swollen.

“Oikawa…”

Oikawa’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled, his eyes lit up, the warmest, most beautiful smile in the world. “Iwa-chan…” he said.

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi swallowed, bracing himself for the reaction. “Look down.”

Oikawa’s brow furrowed. He looked down as instructed, and Iwaizumi watched as his eyes widened. He opened his mouth, staring from one leg to the other, and then he scrambled completely out of Iwaizumi’s lap, placing his ass right in the mud and letting out a little gasp. “Oh my god, that feels so gross!” he shrieked. “Is that what it feels like on your butt, Iwa-chan?”

He scrambled right back into Iwaizumi’s arms, reaching behind himself to wipe the mud off his ass as much as he could, and shamelessly drying off his hand on Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt.

“You have—you have legs,” Iwaizumi said. “Aren’t you…” He swallowed hard. “Aren’t you upset?”

“Why?” Oikawa said, tilting his head. “Iwa-chan wished for me to be with him. Of course I need to have legs for that!” he said. “You didn’t expect me to live in your bathtub forever, did you?” He giggled and looped his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, planting a kiss on his nose. “Now I can be with Iwa-chan _forever_ ,” he sang. “But it’s cold,” he added. “Is this how all humans feel? Is this why you wear clothes all the time?” He shivered. “Iwa-chan, I’m cold,” he whined.

Iwaizumi sighed as he got to his feet. He helped Oikawa up, holding him still as he balanced like a colt on new legs. He took off his coat and put it around Oikawa’s shoulders and helping him zip it all the way up. He could already see goosebumps forming on Oikawa’s legs. “You’re shivering. Let’s go find you some clothes,” he said and helped Oikawa totter up the muddy riverbank to the street.

Iwaizumi would have to call in to training and ask for a day off come the morning. Oikawa’s face was streaked with mud. Since he no longer had an apartment in Sendai, they’d have to find a hotel for the night, and also food for Oikawa. There were a lot of other things to figure out too—Oikawa’s legal status for one—having not been a human, they would have to get him papers somehow. Oikawa would also have to eventually find something to occupy his time—a job he cared about and enjoyed—he wondered if Oikawa might want to come with him to the gym sometime, maybe even try volleyball. His life was about to get a lot more troublesome.

At this time of night, no stores selling pants would be open so Iwaizumi had no choice but to find Hanamaki’s contact in his cellphone as they stood, Oikawa shivering and tucked into his side at the edge of the road.

“Hey, Makki,” Iwaizumi said when Hanamaki picked up. “This is going to sound weird, but can you meet me at the 24-hour coffee shop you were at earlier?”

“Why?” Hanamaki asked. “You’re here? And you want caffeine at this time of night?”

“It’s a long story. There’s someone I want you to meet,” Iwaizumi said. “And can you bring a pair of pants?”

“Pants?” Hanamaki asked. “What are you doing pantsless at a cafe?”

“Well,” Iwaizumi said, grinning at Oikawa. “He’s never tried real coffee.”

 

* * *

 

**Extra scene:**

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. He bit his lip, smiling, and Iwaizumi gripped Oikawa’s hand a little tighter. “Guess what?”

“What?” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa beamed at him. “I’m taller than you now.”

“I am going to kick you back into the river,” Iwaizumi said.

 

 


End file.
